Last Hero's Prelude
by MeLoveMamimi
Summary: A light series that follows linearly with my current major work, The Legend of Zelda: The Last Hero; short stories that focus on Link's misadventures before becoming the Hero, and the lives of minor characters who don't often get a chance in the spotlight.


_In keeping to the genre of the original _Legend of Zelda_ video games, _The Last Hero_ is very much an adventure/fantasy story. Writing it has given me a chance to branch out past my traditional nonfiction/realistic fiction works, but at the same time it makes me appreciate the realistic genre that much more. Therefore, my intention with these short stories will be to utilize a gentler, simpler narrative in contrast to the exciting and romantic tale. In other words, while Link the Hero is battling demons and rescuing Princess Zelda in _The Last Hero,_ the people of Hyrule will be going about their daily duties and living their lives here in _Last Hero's Prelude_._

_The main purpose of these short stories is to give me writing practice and refreshment from an otherwise serious plot and development. They also serve the reader by providing bonus perspectives and fun side-stories of miscellaneous characters (not to mention giving you something to read in time while I work on the next chapter for my main story)._

_None of these short stories will ever be longer than a chapter or two (if I feel like doing a two-parter). While this series will provide additional insight into the main storyline, the stories themselves won't reveal any information that is critical to the plot of _The Last Hero_. This way, it won't be necessary for readers of my Last Haro story to approach this series if they would rather not; they can disregard it all together if they choose. _

_However, before reading this mini-series, I highly recommend you go and read _TheLegend of Zelda_: _The Last Hero_ on my account if you have not done so already, as it is required to understand the events that take place in these stories. The characters mentioned therein have the same names and personalities as those in the canonical video games, but are not the same people in that they all live co-dependently together in this alternate and fan-made Hyrulian world._

_Those who have read my story before may recognize the content below as what used to be the prelude for my main story. It is you choice whether you want to read it again, I promise there will be new unread content available here soon._

…

Southwest of the central Hyrule province, separated from Hyrule field by the Ikana Canyon and walled off from the rest of the world by the Nuun Highlands is a massive wasteland called the Samasa Desert, created by centuries of exhaustive drought and flash-floods. Because of this wasteland's depressed elevation and isolation caused by the highlands, it is famous for its inhumane seasons. In the summer, the heat is so intense and arid that any unlucky fellow wandering the land is destined to become part of its seared and flesh-stripped skeleton collection. In the winter, the air is bitterly cold and so desiccated that conditions are even more dangerous than during the summer.

Southeast of this wasteland is the wettest place in all of Hyrule, home to most of the lakes, rivers, swamps, ponds, and other water sources available for the races of the continent. While this wet province is a blessing for the continent's population, it is a curse to the wasteland; warm air rises from the surfaces of the lakes and ponds, and is pushed north by the the rising winds from the ocean to the south. Both of these fronts are pushed into the wasteland year round, and due to the intensive corrosion by heat and water, these warm winds cause dust storms and twisters that strike the land at any given moment.

This wasteland, known formally as the Eldin Province, is the most dangerous region in the Hyrule continent. On top of the geographical treacheries of this land, this desert is home to blood-thirsty bulbins, known to form in thieving colonies, as well as shifty moldorms, peahats and hroks.

Life is hard for the Eldin Province, yet life manages to exist. Desert flowers bloom during the spring, painting the canyon walls with bright buttercups and lavender orchids to contrast the crimson rock formations. Small communities of Deku Scrubs hide in naturally carved caves within the canyon walls and mountain sides, protected from the dangerous winds. The spring is the only time of the year any outsiders can traverse through the desert without fear of starvation, thirst, dehydration, or losing their way. Unfortunately, even during the spring, outsiders can still be ravaged by the thieving bulbins or desperate animals surviving in the desert.

Despite this, there is still hope for the wandering traveler. To the far north, the Zora river flows from the northern mountains of Holodrum, then heads east through the lower Labrynna mountains, where it finally travels south and passes directly through the Ikana canyon. It is thanks to this river that life in the Eldin Province is remotely possible. Branching off this river underneath the sands are several underground rivers which flow through the province and form oases throughout the desert. Only skilled cartographers can locate these oases, but they are safe havens nevertheless.

There is one danger in the Eldin Province, however, which no river, cave, nor oasis can ever protect one from if they ever encounter it. If any man should come across this peril in the desert, he'll curse the day he was born a boy in his dying moment.

Located northwest of Ikana Canyon and the Zora River is a monstrous fortress made of crudely refined metals found only in the ores of the desert sand. Built into the walls of the highlands with strange, horrifying symbols carved into its surface, the very appearance of this fortress reminds those who see it of a prison housing malicious torture devices ready to be employed at a moment's notice. Patrolling the towers of this frightening fortress is an even more frightening sight.

In all the Eldin Province, only one tribe of people has managed not only to survive in the harsh climates but thrive and create a culture entirely its own.

A race of people comparable to murderous amazons, the Gerudo women are a thieving culture who prosper in the spacious Samasa Desert. Generations of meticulous observation, qualitative study, and adapted living accomplished by the first female settlers have lead to years of experience and wisdom of the harsh environment; the desert holds many secrets, and the Gerudo Tribe knows every last one of them. On top of their adaptive abilities, the Gerudo are renowned for being one of the most culturally diverse races in all of Hyrule; with their own forms of written language, music, and religion, the Gerudo women have gained fame from all the provinces of the continent. They have the most advanced technological and scientific minds of the world's population. They were the first to design an accurate time-keeping design, an accurate calendar, steam and water-powered engines, telescopes and more.

Because of their advancements, previous and unknown races have tried to forcibly take their settlements and technology from them, and so the Gerudo are also one of the most warring tribes in Hyrule. They perpetually design new weaponry and military machines with which to protect their land. Years of safeguarding their traditions has left the tribe exhausted and malicious. They do not take kindly to outsiders, especially males. Any unlucky man caught by a Gerudo clan or warrior in the desert is captured and doomed to imprisonment in their fortress for the rest of his short miserable life.

The Gerudo were especially known for their violence during the 2nd Hyrulean Civil War, when every tribe fended for itself and every man, woman, and child was for themselves. It is in the heat of this tragic war where our story begins.

…

Fiddah was a respected enough member of the Gerudo tribe. With her traditional tanned skin, red hair, and golden eyes, she lived the same as nearly all the women in her tribe. She was born of a Gerudo woman and a Hylian father, and raised to be as intelligent and cunning as any respectable woman. She studied every subject in academia, medicine in particular, and was the pride of her mother. When she was 16, the only midwife in the fortress became so overloaded with patients that Fiddah volunteered to assist as her nurse. Now, 20 years later, Fiddah was not only the midwife but the surgeon and doctor for the tribe, and a good one at that. She'd developed stronger, effective medicines during her career, and became known throughout Eldin Province for her practitioner skills. She had to deliver the children of disgusting Hylian men every once in a while, but she still enjoyed her job to the fullest.

Fiddah walked down the hall as calmly as she could force herself, quietly removing her now bloodied silicon gloves. When one of the nurses approached her, inquiring how the birth went, she simply handed her the gloves and continued pacing. The nurse noticed the look of stoic alarm in Fiddah's eyes, and caught up with her immediately.

"Mistress? What is the matter? I've never seen you like this."

Fiddah continued without a word, and the nurse followed behind her silently.

The main chamber in the fortress is a safe haven for all the Gerudo women. It is built deep beneath the sand, so if an enemy were to attack and devastate the fortress, the women would still have a place to hide from the invaders. It was built using a series of hidden corridors and complicated locks. No one outside the Gerudo tribe has ever seen the main chamber, but they say the interior of the room is built entirely of marble (an extremely rare material in the Samasa desert), decorated with precious minerals and treasures from around the world, and blessed by the Goddess of Earth herself.

However, when Fiddah and her nurse entered the main chamber, everyone inside was in uproar. Council women banged their fists on the table, shouted angry obscenities, and pointed fingers at one another.

"How could our last attack have failed?"

"What do you mean we don't have enough rations?"

"It's your fault it fell apart!"

"Where the twilight is that war officer?"

At some point a chair went flying across the room, and two women jumped from their seats and began clawing each others' faces and ripping each others hair. Instantly after this fight began a load crack thundered in the room, and everyone sat silently in their seats.

"All of you, shut up! It's no wonder we're in a civil war; we're all acting like a bunch of savage men! We're the hope of this tribe and if we don't start behaving appropriately we're as good as dead!"

Cala's strong voice rang out and echoed against the walls of the chamber while the rest of the council women sat in their chairs, looking either apologetic or apathetic. Cala sat at the head of the table, wearing the royal thobe of purple silk and white linen. On the wall behind her was a banner displaying the symbol of the Gerudo Tribe.

"Besides," she began again. "It seems we have guests. None other than our beloved Dr. Fiddah."

Fiddah and her nurse bowed before approaching her.

"I assume the birth went well. I'd expect nothing less of your abilities."

Cala picked up a goblet on the table and began to drink deeply from the nectar.

"I'm afraid not, Your Highness," Fiddah explained. "Asil had massive hemorrhaging at the time of birth."

Cala paused her drinking to respond, "I apologize, but I'm not much of a doctor. You'll have to explain what that means, Fiddah."

"The mother has died from blood loss."

A quiet hush settled on the room. The silence was finally broken when Cala placed her goblet back onto the table.

"Such a shame. Asil had such promise as a member of our tribe. She will be dearly missed. But I'm afraid we must continue with our meeting, Fiddah, so I'll leave the arrangements to you. See that the girl is given an appropriate foster mother."

"It's not a girl."

Another silence settled on the room, but this time, everyone sat up straight in their seats and looked directly at Fiddah, including Cala and the nurse.

"Say again, Fiddah?"

"The baby is a strong and healthy boy, Your Majesty."

At this statement, everyone in the room began chattering loudly and excitedly to one another, but Cala smashed her fist onto the surface of the table.

"Suli! What year is it?"

Cala pointed to one of her council women in the room, who instantly responded back.

"It's the first month of 811, Your Highness."

To this, Cala's joyful laugh rang out.

"Well how about that? It's been one hundred years!"

Cala picked her documents and rose from her chair.

"Suli, see to it that Asil has every applicable honor bestowed upon her before her cremation. Send the criers out to our neighboring clans. Work with our educators to prepare for the formal education of this child. Send word to Koume and Kotake in the Termina Province at once. It is of the utmost importance that they know of this birth. Everyone else, spread the word. We'll survive this war yet! We finally have a king!"

…

_26 YEARS LATER_

A townhouse in the city was adorned with modest home-made decor including a wooden table, two dining chairs, one high chair, a bed and crib, a rocking chair, bookcases, oil lamps, and portraits that . The ceiling was painted sky blue with puffy white patches.

Cinders in the fireplace slowly faded away, remnants of the fire that burned there only hours ago. Dishes were left in a washtub still filled with lukewarm water. Portraits of family which hung originally on the walls now laid shattered on the unswept floor, alongside dozens of torn papers and ripped books. The windows were smashed in and the glass shards were scattered about the floor. The chairs and bookcases had been overturned and thrown across the room. Not a light burned in the dark house.

A panic-stricken woman garbed in a white frock grabbed several articles of clothing from some wooden drawers and stuffed them nervously into a sack. She threw hurried glances over her shoulder as she packed. Her hands trembled as she picked up each piece, delaying her enormously.

"Stop that," she said to herself between her silent sobs.

She blinked back her tears as she continued packing. She could hear the sound of roaring fire and screaming from the streets.

A soft cry came from the other room and called her attention away from her anxiety. She dropped the sack on the bed, paced into the nursery, and picked up a small bundle from the crib. The crying continued as she cradled the bundle in her arms.

"Shh, hush darling," she cooed softly.

The baby in her arms reacted instantly by stopping his crying and instead smiling. The woman looked lovingly into the baby's shining blue eyes, and pushed his short blonde hair away from his tiny face.

"I pray to the Goddesses that if I cannot save myself, I can at least save you."

The baby's smile faded as he looked back into his own mother's eyes. He lifted one stubby arm to his mother's face and waved his tiny hand in front of her eyes.

A rough knock suddenly hit the door, making the woman jump and her heart pound violently in her chest. She wrapped the infant in his blanket, tucked him under one arm, picked up the sack on her bed and headed out the back door, closing it quietly behind her just as the front door was knocked down.

Chaos covered the street. The night sky burned vermillion as smoke billowed upward from the burning buildings. People ran back and forth screaming as dark knights rampaged the street, snatching up women by their hair and watching them squirm in their grasp. They slashed away at people with their swords, cutting off heads or extremities and slicing innocent throats. They threw bystanders through windows, looted homes and stores, and carried torches to start more fires.

From the back porch, the young mother heard rustling and glass breaking from inside her now abandoned home. She moved quickly behind the neighboring town houses until she made a tight turn into a dim alley. She knelt down and gently placed the baby boy on the ground, then opened her sack and rummaged through until she pulled out a dark cloak. She wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and lifted the hood. The baby began crying again.

"Hush, darling," she whispered as she too began to cry.

She picked up the baby and continued down the alley, sticking to the wall.

Soon, the alley led into a deep tunnel below the city. She slung the pack over her shoulder and brought her hand up, feeling the wall as she waded through the ankle deep water. A few rats scurried past her and squeaked quietly to themselves. As she headed deeper into the tunnel, she saw less and less of what was in front of her until it was so dark that everywhere around her was pitch black. At that moment, the tunnel opened, and she stumbled into a large field.

Behind her, the city was ablaze. The sky was swallowed by the ravenous fires that endlessly consumed the buildings.

She turned back only a moment to watch, then the grieving woman, carrying her son, began to cross the seemingly endless field, taking long strides. It was a while before she couldn't hear the flames burning or the people screaming.

She walked this way for hours, and the night was turning grey when she heard the sound of flesh being cut and felt a sharp pain in her thigh. She shrieked, and wished she hadn't.

She began to run. She felt another sharp pain on her shoulder. The baby slept soundly in her arms while she ran for her life.

Another pain struck her back and she fell on her side. She looked around frantically. A large berry bush leaned backward against a fence several feet in front of her, and the young mother did the first thing she could think of.

She crawled on her knees and one hand, carrying the boy in her other arm, and approached the bush. While barely keeping her balance, she carefully slipped him underneath the bush's brambles. Then, she tore a piece from her dress, put her hand to the deep slash in her leg, and brought it back to the cloth. After scribbling, she shoved the cloth under the bush and into the sleeping baby's blanket. No sooner did she accomplish this was she pulled back from the bush and upwards by her hair and her throat slit.

…

The Hyrule field of Ordona is famous throughout the provinces. Cows graze constantly on this never-ending land of green. With its lush grass, gentle hills and babbling brooks, it's a perfect place for many ranches and farms to grow their crops and raise their animals. The farms of this field are often called the backbone of the kingdom; many agricultural goods come from these ranches and supply the rest of the citizens. Lots of people call this beautiful field home, and starting today it would have one more dweller.

The sun was rising as a tiny red-haired girl with tanned skin, pretty freckles, and an apron walked out of a barn, closing the door behind her, and began walking down a path. She swung a small empty basket in the air above her head, and hummed to herself as she skipped across the dirt. She hummed so loudly that if she hadn't stopped to pull a rock from her shoe she wouldn't have heard the most important sound she would hear in her life.

"What is that?" she thought and perked her head up.

She didn't have to ask this, because she recognized it immediately.

She dropped her basket and ran down the path to the berry bush that she had ventured to visit in the first place. She ripped the branches away, and her eyes grew wide in pure joy.

She ran back to the barn and pulled the doors open.

"Daddy! Daddy! Look what I found!" She ran up to a big man wearing overalls who was milking one of the cows.

"What in tarnation?!"

That was all the rancher had time to say before the girl grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out of the barn, leading him out the gate and down the path to the bush leaning backward against the fence.

Underneath the bush, the baby boy cried loudly for his breakfast.

"What in tha world?! It's a baby!"

The farmer reached into the bush and picked up the infant with both hands, holding him out in front of him. The baby forgot about his hunger and began to laugh.

"You're holding it wrong, Dad!"

The girl grabbed the boy from the man, and as she did a piece of cloth fell from the baby's blanket.

"You gotta hold him like this."

She demonstrated by cradling the child in her own arms. The rancher wasn't paying any attention, for he'd seen the cloth that fell to the ground and knelt down to pick it up.

"Are you listening, Daddy?"

His eyes grew wide as he read what was written on the cloth.

"My Goddess," he thought to himself. "This message is written in blood. Whoever left this poor kid here sure ain't comin' back to get him."

"Daddy?"

The girl saw the worried look on her father's face. He looked down at his toddler daughter who was struggling to carry the infant in her tiny arms. He smiled weakly at her.

"Darlin', how'd you like a baby brother?"

The girl's eyes shone with brightly with utter excitement.

"Really? Thank you so much, Daddy!"

She twirled around.

"We can feed him and wash him and dress him and change his diapers and I can sing to him to sleep"

She stopped and looked back at her father.

"But what do we call him? He'll need a name, right?"

"Don' worry 'bout that, pumpkin. The boy's already got a name."

"Really? What is it?"

The man looked back to the piece of cloth that had one word written on its blood-stained threads.

_"Link."_

…


End file.
